


I'm Turning Into You

by RichardGraysonPercyJackson



Series: The Forbidden Love of Nightwing and Deathstroke [11]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Accidental Death, Caring Wade Wilson, M/M, Protective Slade Wilson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 22:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18455531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichardGraysonPercyJackson/pseuds/RichardGraysonPercyJackson
Summary: After a rough night of patrol, Dick confides in Slade of his fear that he might be turning into the mercenary after someone loses their life while he was on patrol and he felt nothing.





	I'm Turning Into You

**Author's Note:**

> After writing "not a hero" (or whatever it's called), I realized Dickie needed a good reason (spoiler alert) to be totally chill with Slade killing people.
> 
> So here's part of the reason

Dick didn’t look up when he heard Slade come into the bedroom. Instead, he stayed where he was, seated on the edge of the bed with his arms wrapped around himself as he trembled, staring at the ground.

“Pretty bird?” Slade asked softly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You’ve been crying.”

Dick wished Slade didn’t know how to read him so well. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Slade said gently.

“It’s it?” Dick demanded, glaring up at the mercenary. “Aren’t you the one who always tells me I cry over stupid things?!”

Slade was silent and Dick sighed. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry.”

Slade pressed a gentle kiss to Dick’s forehead, taking a seat on the bed with him and placing a hand on Dick’s back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

Dick took a deep breath. “I’m turning into you.”

Slade frowned and even though his first instinct was to laugh, he didn’t do it. “It takes a lot to turn into me, kid.”

“I was fighting a mugger,” Dick whispered. “Last night.”

“Alright,” Slade said slowly. He hadn’t been home for the past week. Working a few states away on a contract.

“And he took off running before I could knock him out. I followed him until we were on the roof of Wayne Enterprises,” Dick continued to explain. “I-I don’t know what happened or how he...how he…” he covered his face with his hands, trying not to cry.

Slade stayed silent until Dick was ready to talk, keeping his hand on Dick’s back as a warm, grounding presence.

With a shaking breath, Dick went on. “I wasn’t thinking,” he whispered. “He had grabbed my mask. There was enough light, he had a positive identification. He knew who I was.”

“You don’t know that,” Slade said softly.

“I do. He said my name,” Dick whispered. “But I...I...god, Bruce would have killed me if he knew I let a mugger get that close to me, so I...so...I…” 

He turned wide, terrified eyes up to Slade as he whispered. “I pushed him off the roof. I didn’t save him. I shoved him off the roof, knowing damn well he wasn’t going to survive. I killed him, Slade.”

“How is that different from when I kill people and you’re nearby?” Slade asked.

“That’s different,” Dick insisted. “Because I’m not the one doing it.”

“What happened to the body?” Slade asked.

“I left it on the ground by the road,” Dick replied. “It was on the news this morning as a suicide.”

“Good,” Slade said simply. “No evidence.”

“Slade, I just killed someone,” Dick whispered. “And I…I don’t care.”

That got Slade’s attention and he looked down at Dick. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t feel anything when he died,” Dick replied. “I still don’t. Logically, I know I should feel horrible. I should feel sick. I just  _ killed  _ someone. But...I don’t. He deserved it.”

“You’re right,” Slade replied. “He deserved it.”

“I don’t want to kill people.”

“You only killed  _ one  _ person by  _ mistake _ ,” Slade remind him. “That doesn’t mean you have to take up the blade and start slitting throats. Frankly, I would prefer if you didn’t.”

Dick sniffled miserably as tears started to fall. He leaned over and rested his head on Slade’s shoulder after the mercenary wrapped an arm around his shoulders, drawing him close.

“You said you don’t feel anything. That you don’t feel bad,” Slade said softly. “So why are you crying?”

“Because I always tell Damian that killing is wrong,” Dick replied. “Because no killing is Bruce’s number one rule. We are  _ not  _ judge, jury, and executioner. But I just took a man’s life. And for what? Just because he saw my face? It’s petty.”

“No one has to know.”

“ _ We _ know,” Dick objected.

“But Wayne doesn’t,” Slade reminded him. “Isn’t that the important part?”

Dick heaved a sigh. “But if Bruce suspects, for even a  _ second  _ that the mugger didn’t die from suicide-”

“Then I’ll take the blame,” Slade responded easily. “We’ll say I was sloppy.”

“You’re never sloppy,” Dick told him, even as a small smile appeared on face.

“Well, first time for anything,” Slade murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of Dick’s head. “You know I don’t think any different of you?”

“Thank you,” Dick whispered, melting against Slade’s side. “I love you.”

“I love you too, birdie.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed!!!
> 
> I enjoy comments!


End file.
